


Nightmares decorated like dreams

by Meadow



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, One Shot, Star Wars - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:00:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22713520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow/pseuds/Meadow
Summary: It was just another cruel test from Sidious to prove himself, to make him even angrier than he already was, to remind him that he was no longer—"Shh...It was only a dream, Ani.” A soft hand caressed his cheek, and all the air was pulled from his lungs.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 70





	Nightmares decorated like dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So...I’m new to the fandom, and this is my first fic, I’m only publishing it because I’m sleep deprived and not in my right judgement, so it’s probably not edited. Anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

He felt sunlight, the warmth of blankets and a plush bed under his body. He whimpered and groaned, not believing it to be real. It was just another cruel test from Sidious to prove himself, to make him even angrier than he already was, to remind him that he was no longer—

"Shh...It was only a dream, Ani.” A soft hand caressed his cheek, and all the air was pulled from his lungs.

Anakin’s blue eyes shot opened at the sound of the sleepy voice he’d thought he’d never hear again. As soon as he saw her brown eyes looking at him with all the love in the galaxy, he couldn’t stop his tears from flowing down his cheeks and violent sobs wracking his body.

Padme’s eyebrows scrunched in concern, and her breath hitched. “Oh Ani...shh, it’s alright.”

Strong arms shot out from the sheets and gripped her to him in an embrace that was almost painful. He buried his nose into the soft skin at her neck, inhaling the scent of both her curls and skin deeply. His Padme, his angel, she was here, with him under the covers of their bed, dressed in the silken gold nightgown she’d worn on their wedding night

Anakin pulled away after minutes of holding her, running his thumb along her cheek and relishing in the skin on skin contact. It was if he hadn’t experienced such a thing in years, and it felt amazing. He touched everywhere he could, not necessarily sexual, but in a grateful way. Running his hands through her hair, along her shoulders, feeling her curves through the silky dress. 

Padme stopped his hands from roaming too far, turning her head to their door to check for something—he didn’t care, taking this as an opportunity to press kisses against her neck, cheeks, forehead, anywhere he could reach. “Anakin, not right now, or else the—“

That was as far as she got before their bedroom door was slammed open with a loud bang. Anakin tensed, looking for any signs of a threat, but he didn’t even see anyone standing in the doorway from over the footboard of their bed. Until a small pattern of footsteps echoed through the room, two small little hands gripped the edge and pulled up to reveal themself.

His breath was once again sucked from his chest, and his heart swelled with both love and shock.

A little girl—he knew it, ha!—peaked over the edge of their bed, sleep clothes wrinkled and dark curls almost as wild as Padme's fanned around her head, her brown eyes were lit with the same fiery determination that he had as a youngling. She was beautiful. Their baby was absolutely stunning. Just like her mother.

Before he could process what was happening, the little girl—his little girl, was launching herself on their bed with a fierce battle cry, or more so, onto Anakin. Small hands that felt somewhat sticky (he'd have to figure that out later) tugged at his golden curls, demanding his full undivided attention, Padme's giggles at their daughter made his heart swell to the point where it almost burst. While her appearance may look exactly like her mother, Anakin knew from the very insistent tugging of his hair that she'd taken after him everywhere else.

“Leia, be nice to your father.” Padme said in a soft tone. Leia. A name fit for a princess. A lovely name for a lovely girl. Hearing his wife speak made him go back to her words moments ago, he’d have to ask later just how many times their daughter has almost walked into their bedroom while they were busy with...marital activities.

Letting out a heartfelt laugh at his daughter—his daughter! He could not believe it—he'd hesitantly brought his hands up to her under arms and lifted her away, tossing her up for a moment, she giggled while her little arms and legs flailed wildly. Anakin laughed too, bringing her down between himself and his wife, and watching as she snuggled close. His whole family, his life, his reasons for living were all right he—

"LLeeiaaa!" 

Anakin felt his heart stop for a third time as a little voice whined from the hallway, another pitter-patter of small feet on the floor, and suddenly he was faced with a young version of himself.

Sandy blonde hair that stuck up in all different directions, and tired blue eyes that were being rubbed by tiny little fists. A little boy.

Well, he can take back that victory laugh. Padme was right too. 

Anakin was at a loss for words. Twins! They didn’t just have a baby, they had babies! Two beautiful children that he and Padme created through their love. Anakin’s heart soared as a true smile stretched his face to the point of aching.

Their little boy was dragging around a blanket, still tired from waking up from sleep, he ran over to Padme’s side of the bed, pulling himself up and crawling to his family. At least he was more calm about it than his sister. He then proceeded to try and wedge himself between Leia and Padme, wiggling around until he was comfortable, much to his sisters complaint.

“Luke! I wanna be near mama too!”

Luke. His sons name was Luke. Luke and Leia. His perfect little babies. Anakin was overcome with so much emotion he wasn’t even paying attention to the sibling bicker until they’d quite down at their mothers request. 

Blue eyes looked down at his family, cuddled up against each other in a sweet tangle of limbs. He could cry again, just at the sight of them. His children, his wife, they were all ok. They were all happy and together. Anakin slipped down, wrapping his arms around the huddle of his family and closing his eyes. For the first time in years, he felt content.

When he'd opened his eyes again, all he saw was red light, illuminating the room in a way that sucked out all the peace in seconds. Anakin jolted, rubbing at his eyes to make it go away, but it only got worse. The feeling of their skin pressing against his was fading away, leaving only cold metal and harsh leather that evoked an unbearable pain within his arms and legs. Anakin felt trapped, he couldn't breath, he couldn't speak, he couldn't feel, he couldn't see. Something was wrong, and yet his family acted as if nothing was wrong, blissfully unaware in a serene peacefulness while continuing their cuddles. 

Anakin pushed himself off of the bed, away from them. Through his red vision, he saw his once real hand was now covered in a leather glove, a dark cape billowed around him, and he felt a helmet now locked onto him. He tried calling out to his wife, his children, but he failed to notice their own transformations. Padme's features were no longer peaceful, they were completely blank, her skin and lips were ashen, and she looked too cold for the room, no longer wearing the silk gold nightgown he adored, instead she was in a dress that was eerily familiar, designed after the waterfalls on Naboo, her hair was decorated with flowers, and the japor snippet he'd carved for her was placed in her hands. His children were fading, disappearing into a misty nothingness while cuddled against their mothers belly.

Anakin screamed, begging for his babies to return to him, for Padme to wake up from death and hear him. It didn't happen, they were gone, and Padme wasn't waking up.

His harsh, mechanical breathing was what woke him up.

Vader felt the dark hole in his chest sink in a bit deeper now. Realization and remembrance hit him harder than when he was nearly trampled by the shaak he'd ridden in Naboo.

This was why he'd forsaken sleep. These foolish dreams that mock a reality of what could've been his life, had he just listened, had he not fallen to the dark side; killed innocents, the Jedi, his friends, his own children, her...Had he realized at the time that even as a Sith Lord with unlimited power, only his love could save her. 

He was such an idiot, always had been, but especially then. One could say that Darth Vader had everything he wanted now, but in reality, he had nothing. Everything he truly wanted was gone because of his own mistakes.

This dream wasn't real. It never would be because of him.

It wasn't real. 

It was never real.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, my first fic, it’s probably not that good because I am a huge crybaby when it comes to angst so future fics will mostly likely be happy because I cannot handle any type of tragedy. I hope you enjoyed <3


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